“To their happy union,” the table chorused back in a weary drone, lifting their glasses.
Hugo did not say the words, but hedidraise his glass, willing Evelyn to look at him. Instead, her head was bowed, her chin to her chest, staring blankly at her practically full plate of raspberry tart.
“If everyone would like to make their way into the drawing room, there will be games and refreshments,” Josiah continued, to the accompaniment of hastily scraped chairs and sighs of relief.
Hugo had no doubt that at least half of the guests would try to make their excuses and leave early, and in the chaos, perhaps he would be able to steal his moment alone with Evelyn. As such, he made sure that he was one of the last to leave the dining room, hanging back with Octavia and Selina, as he kept Evelyn in his periphery.
She, too, seemed to be taking her time, not that her father, her brothers, or her betrothed seemed to notice. They strode on ahead without her, before the baron doubled back to fetch his mother and help her out of her chair. He did not, however, offer the same courtesy to Evelyn.
“This is your chance,” Selina whispered. “Do not waste it.”
Grabbing Octavia, she hurried out of the dining room and, almost as an afterthought, closed the door behind her. Leaving Evelyn and Hugo alone in the dining room together.
“What is going on?” Evelyn asked, frowning at the closed door. “Why did she do that?”
Hugo put his hands up, keenly aware that she would have to go through him to exit the room. “Just give me a moment of your time, Evelyn. Please.”
From outside the dining room, there came the sound of a woman’s voice insisting, “No, no, tend to the guests in the drawing room first. We can clear the table after everyone has gone.”
Hugo did not recognize the voice, but it was something of a blessing.
“Please, Evelyn,” he repeated, gazing at her in earnest. “If you do not like what I have to say, I shall not stop you from leaving.”
Evelyn took a hesitant step forward. “And if I do not want to hear what you have to say?”
“I will stand aside,” he promised. “But I am asking you to… just grant me a moment.”
Her gaze flickered to the door and back to Hugo, a deep breath making her chest rise and fall. “Very well, but not here.” She furrowed her brow. “I do not know what you have done to rope my friends and Margery into this, but… I cannot speak to you here.”
She turned and headed for a narrow door to the right of the room, opening it wide. It appeared to be a servants’ corridor of some kind and, as she cast a pointed look at Hugo, he did not hesitate to walk to where she waited.
Through a brief labyrinth of narrow passages, the corridor finally spat them out at the rear of the house. An annex of sorts with three doors branching off. Evelyn chose the one straight ahead, Hugo’s eyes widening in pleasant surprise as he was hit by a sudden gust of cool night air.
A paved terrace jutted out ahead, before descending into a long, lawned garden, dew winking in the moonlight.
“In truth, I needed some fresh air,” Evelyn said, stepping out into the gloom.
Hugo walked out with her, though he kept a polite distance. The terrace stretched away to the right, forming a border to the rooms at the rear of the townhouse. He could hear the muffled sound of the party from somewhere within, and wondered which window belonged to the drawing room.
With a heavy sigh, Evelyn lowered herself onto an old bench, shadowed by the canopy of a hawthorn tree.
“You have my attention,” she said, her voice so hollow that it wrenched at Hugo’s heart.
Taking a breath, he moved closer, and sank down onto his knees before her, reaching for her hands. At first, he thought she would refuse his touch, pulling her hands away, but she did not resist, a deep frown forming upon her brow as she held his intense gaze.
“Evelyn,” he began softly, his eyes flitting to the necklace at her throat, letting it encourage him. “Evelyn… I came to a realization after you departed Ashcroft, and though I should have told you when I came to this house the other day, I could not find the words nor entirely understand what it was that I was feeling. It was only after speaking to Octavia that I figured it out. I hope you will forgive me for not knowing sooner that I… I love you, Evelyn.”
A breathy gasp escaped her lips, her fingers suddenly gripping his tighter. “What?”
“I love you,” he repeated with a smile. “I have loved you for some time. And though you are engaged to someone else, I want to ask you to break that engagement so that I may stand at your side in a church, at the altar, before God and our friends, to pledge myself to you as your husband instead.”
Her eyes were so wide that he could see the whites, her mouth a perfect ‘o’ of shock.
“I want to marry you, Evelyn,” he continued. “I want to marry the woman that I love, if you will have me?”
“But… but what about Selina?” Evelyn blurted out, now gripping his hands so tightly that it felt like she was trying to break hisfingers. “I… I… I thought you would have proposed to her on your final outing, or… a proper courtship at least. No… oh, no, I cannot betray her like that!”
He chuckled softly. “She has given her blessing. Indeed, she will be waiting anxiously, at this very moment, for news ofourengagement.” He paused. “She is not interested in me. I am not interested in her. My heart is entirely yours, Evelyn. It could never be anyone but you. But of course, if you do not feel the same, then I shall not trouble you again.”
